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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625310">hold me in the sunlight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloryordust/pseuds/gloryordust'>gloryordust</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, M/M, daichi is not smooth, some bad jokes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:54:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloryordust/pseuds/gloryordust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Kuroo stares at him blankly for a drawn-out moment before his shoulders start to shake. He dissolves into loud, wheezing laughter as Daichi watches, dumbfounded. “Oh man,” he says, clutching his stomach. “This isn’t the weirdest way I’ve ever been propositioned.” Wiping a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye, he adds, “I gotta say, I don’t hate it.” </p>
  <p><i>What</i>, Daichi thinks. “What?” he says eloquently. </p>
</blockquote>Daichi's air conditioner breaks. Good thing his neighbour is willing to put up with him for a bit.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>309</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hold me in the sunlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyakaashi/gifts">nyakaashi</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>for my dearest iri! this was meant to motivate you to finish your sb entry but took much longer than... you ever spent... on sb... i'm really sorry i have no excuses. hope this brings you some enjoyment nonetheless!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the midst of the sweltering July heat, Daichi’s air conditioner breaks.</p><p>He’s lying flat on the floor when it takes its final sputtering breaths before dying out. With a groan, Daichi pushes himself upright and throws a weak glare at the now useless appliance. His apartment is unfairly hot even without the heat wave sweeping through the city; cracking the window open does nothing to help, and his only fan broke a <em>long</em> time before the air conditioner did. </p><p>After giving the building manager a call, he returns to his position on the floor. It’s not much cooler down here, but he’d rather be melting into a puddle on the ground than leaving sweat imprints on his couch. His television’s on the fritz too, leaving him bored out of his mind. If it wasn’t so muggy, maybe he could drift off to sleep, but the heat jolts him awake every time he starts to doze off. </p><p>It’s suffocating. No matter how many layers of clothing Daichi sheds, he’s still seconds away from overheating. He remembers Suga telling him about cases of spontaneous human combustion and wonders if he’s at risk of that now. Wouldn’t that be something—his friends showing up to check on him only to find a pile of ashes on the floor. Maybe he’d even get on the news.</p><p>He’s slightly delirious and stripped down to nothing but a pair of ratty old boxers before he finally crawls out of his apartment in search of cooler pastures. The hallway isn’t any better, but Daichi eventually feels a hint of refreshingly cold air slipping through the cracks of his neighbour’s door. Would it be dumb to press his face against it? Of course it would be dumb; he’s not an animal, and this is a <em>shared</em> community space. </p><p>No, what Daichi <em>can</em> maybe do is knock on the door like a civilized person and ask if he can hang around until the building manager arrives to fix his air conditioner. He likes to believe he’s on pleasant terms with all of his neighbors—he makes sure to greet them politely whenever he encounters them, he doesn’t play loud music or brings home noisy sex partners, and unlike Lev from the fifth floor, Daichi has never set off the fire alarm at two am for no reason. There should be no reason for 48B to refuse to shelter him, right? </p><p>Provided they’re home.</p><p>Two sharp raps on the door later, Daichi is greeted with the sight of his neighbour, his face suspended in mid-yawn. “Hey,” the man says, scratching at his stomach. The nameplate on his mailbox reads Kuroo, if Daichi remembers correctly. He’s tall—taller than Daichi, at any rate—with a curving smile and a wicked case of bedhead. “46B, right?” His eyes sweep over Daichi almost lazily before narrowing in interest. </p><p>“Hi,” Daichi says, feeling guilty. “Did I wake you up?” </p><p>Crossing his arms over his chest, Kuroo leans against the doorframe and blinks away the last of the sleep from his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he grins. “I’m <em>wide</em> awake now.” There’s a joke here that Daichi simply doesn’t have the capacity to understand, if the gleeful glint in Kuroo’s eyes is any indication. </p><p>“The heat, huh?” He can relate to that much and gives him a sympathetic smile.</p><p>Kuroo stares at him blankly for a drawn-out moment before his shoulders start to shake. He dissolves into loud, wheezing laughter as Daichi watches, dumbfounded. “Oh man,” he says, clutching his stomach. “This isn’t the weirdest way I’ve ever been propositioned.” Wiping a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye, he adds, “I gotta say, I don’t hate it.” </p><p><em>What</em>, Daichi thinks. “What?” he says eloquently. </p><p>“This is like the start of one of Yakkun’s favorite pornos,” Kuroo continues, still chuckling. “Never thought it’d happen to me, but hey, I’m not complaining.” </p><p>Really, what? He opens his mouth to press Kuroo for an answer, then stops as realization slowly sinks in. He’s naked. He’s mostly naked. He’s <em>mostly naked</em> and knocking on his neighbour’s door when they’ve only shared maybe one conversation while picking up their mail and <em>holy shit</em>, he’s pretty sure these boxers have holes in unfortunate places.</p><p>Daichi stumbles backwards as blood rushes to his face. “I—I’m so—” His heat-addled brain somehow failed to register that he needs to put clothes on before he leaves his apartment what the fuck. “I’ll—I’ll be right back,” he manages to choke out, in spite of his mortification.</p><p>Kuroo’s renewed laughter follows him back to his apartment. “I’ll be waiting!” </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Daichi has no intentions of coming back. He’s fully willing to endure the heat, but after three minutes inside his apartment, he’s ready to go balls to the walls insane. Pulling on a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting white t-shirt, he returns to the hallway to find Kuroo still waiting for him as promised. </p><p>His eyebrows rise as Daichi sheepishly shuffles closer. “Don’t be shy, 46B,” he says teasingly. “I think you broke the ice a little <em>too</em> spectacularly to get bashful now.”</p><p>If it weren’t for the promise of the cold paradise of 48B, he’d turn tail and run. “My air conditioner broke,” he says, clearing his throat and willing the color in his cheeks to fade. “The building manager’s on his way up to have a look, but can I, uh, hang out with you until then?”</p><p>Daichi steels himself for a rejection, but—“Sure,” Kuroo says easily. “Figured as much.” He steps back to allow Daichi into his apartment and flicks the door shut behind him. “Make yourself at home.”</p><p>Once inside, Daichi hovers awkwardly in the entryway, unsure of where to go from here. It’s pleasant in Kuroo’s apartment, cold enough to give him goosebumps, but Daichi fervently thinks he’d rather have this than the stifling heat of his own home. </p><p>Kuroo makes a beeline for his fridge and pulls out a can of beer. “Want something to drink?” he asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder. </p><p>“Uh, no. I’m okay.” Actually, a chilled beer would be great, but he’s intruding enough as it is. Besides, he doesn’t want to even think about what he’d do if he got tipsy in this situation. </p><p>Shoving his hands in his pockets, he finally takes a step further into Kuroo’s apartment. The set up’s not much different than his place—though Kuroo’s furniture is a lot nicer than what he owns. Daichi eventually takes a seat at the table. The couch looks too expensive for his comfort; he’s still a little sweaty and doesn’t want to have to peel himself off it. </p><p>“Sorry about the misunderstanding earlier,” he continues, praying his face is no longer red. </p><p>“If I didn’t make it clear enough, I don’t mind.” Kuroo drops into the seat across from him with a smile that’s less mocking and more friendly than Daichi expected it to be. “I want to say these things happen, but I don’t think they do all that often.”</p><p>Daichi drops his face into his hands. “I’m so embarrassed.” His voice is muffled. “I hope no one else saw.” Especially not the doting grandmother who lives across the hall. Daichi helps her with chores sometimes, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to look her in the eye if she witnessed his… he’s decided to call it a <em>momentary lapse in judgment</em>. </p><p>“You’re good. I don’t think Honda-san’s home right now,” Kuroo says, leaning back in his chair. “I ran into her on my way home a while ago; she was heading out to visit her grandkids. Your position as her favorite honorary son is safe.”</p><p>How did he…? Daichi lifts his head and squints at Kuroo in amazement, and a little bit of suspicion. How did he read his mind? Is that possible? If it is, the kicker here would be if Kuroo can hear Daichi alternatively think of him as <em>devilishly attractive</em> and <em>possibly a huge prick</em>. He still doesn’t know which side he firmly comes down on.</p><p>“You always help her with her things, right? Carrying bags and stuff,” Kuroo elaborates. “I assumed you probably wouldn’t want her seeing you like that. Well.” Pausing, he grins, a Cheshire-like smile that makes Daichi’s toes curl. “Not like she’d have any reason to complain about the view.” </p><p>He’s not sure if Kuroo is making thinly veiled allusions to his dick or his ass, or something more benign like his thighs. Either way, he doesn’t know how to respond and eventually just says, “Thank you?”</p><p>It’s Kuroo’s turn to look at him like he’s grown a third head, his eyes wide and incredulous, before a now-familiar laugh breaks out of his mouth. “You’re welcome, man.” </p><p>Silence settles between them after that, the only sound from the quiet, steady hum of the air conditioner. Reclining in his chair, the empty beer car sitting on the table, Kuroo studies him like he’s an interesting specimen on display at the zoo. Daichi stares back, not wanting to be undone, and they’re locked in a strange stalemate for a few minutes before his cell phone vibrates and cuts through the atmosphere. </p><p>“It’s the building manager,” Daichi says, frowning at the screen. “One second.” He answers, hoping for good news, and receives anything but. </p><p>After the standard polite greetings, the manager updates him on the status of his air conditioner and—“Repairs are going to take <em>how</em> long?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow and leans forward as Daichi runs a hand through his cropped hair. “Two weeks? In this heat? No, I understand that—I understand. No, it’s fine. I will manage. Thank you for your hard work.”</p><p>“Two weeks, huh?” Kuroo repeats after he hangs up. “That’s rough, buddy.”</p><p>Two whole weeks. Maybe Daichi should’ve gone back to Miyagi instead of staying in the city after all. At least he wouldn’t have had to deal with this. “There are complications,” he says dully. He slides his phone back into his pocket. He’ll just have to figure out a way to survive. It’ll be fine... He can rent a kiddie pool and fill it up with ice and sit in it or something. That should keep him sane for an hour or two. </p><p>Kuroo looks at him thoughtfully for a while before nodding to himself. “You can hide out here when you need to,” he says, and Daichi’s head snaps up to look at him in disbelief. Seriously? He’d been almost positive this was meant to be a one-time thing. “I’m not always home, but,” Kuroo shrugs. “Spare key’s under the plant that looks like the Hyrule Herb from Breath of the Wild.”</p><p>“What.”</p><p>“The potted plant beside my door.” </p><p>He’s still having trouble processing. “Are you sure you should be trusting a stranger with your house key?” he asks, shifting in his seat. “I appreciate the offer, but—“ Objectively speaking, this is dangerous and more than a little stupid. “I could rob you blind.”</p><p>Kuroo doesn’t look worried. “<em>Are</em> you gonna steal from me?” he asks, point-blank, and Daichi blanches. </p><p>“No!”</p><p>“Didn’t think so.” He winks and adds, “I’m a good judge of character.” Daichi doesn’t know enough about his neighbour to call bullshit on that or not. Ignoring his confused expression, Kuroo steeples his fingers. “Even if you did steal from me, I’m not worried. I know where you live.” </p><p>“Yeah, but you don’t even know my name.”</p><p>“Sawamura,” Kuroo says, offended. “How <em>could</em> you?”</p><p>Shit, does Kuroo just know everything? “How—“</p><p>“You introduced yourself when you first moved in.” That… was months ago. Daichi barely remembers making the rounds on his floor, though perhaps the exhaustion from the move has made everything that happened around that time a little fuzzy. But Kuroo’s looking at him with a clear, shrewd gaze, and it doesn’t surprise him that he’s the kind of person to collect scraps of information to tuck away for a later date. He gets the feeling that Kuroo misses shockingly little. “I had plenty of incentive to remember.” </p><p>Once again, he’s not sure how to respond to Kuroo, but Daichi wants to learn—he doesn’t want to continue to be caught off guard by the man. Maybe it’s a long-buried competitive streak kicking in, but he smiles, finally, all white teeth and tight lines. “I think I’ll take that beer after all, Kuroo,” he says, settling back in his chair. </p><p>Kuroo’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ before twisting into another grin, brighter than before, as he heads to the fridge to grab a couple more cans. “Cheers, Sawamura,” he says, tossing one to Daichi. He catches it easily and cracks it open, conscious of Kuroo’s eyes on him as he gulps it down. </p><p>The room’s chilly, Daichi thinks idly, but there’s a hollow part of his chest filling with a strange sort of warmth. He decides not to unpack it just yet. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo’s offer sits at the back of his mind for the next few days. He’s never thought of himself as a shameless person, but the heat continues to be stifling enough to pull him to Kuroo’s apartment—only when he’s around to greet Daichi with a grin. He’s still not brazen enough to waltz in there when Kuroo’s not home. </p><p>On such occasions, he seeks shelter at Suga and Asahi’s place instead, at least until <em>their</em> air conditioner breaks from ‘overuse’ and pushes them to take refuge at the local community pool, which, Daichi reflects, is not that much of an upgrade from the stuffy apartment. </p><p>“You should just go and crank up your neighbour’s aircon,” Suga says, annoyed. He sits by the edge of the pool and fans himself with his hand. The community pool is crowded today—lots of families, lots of youths, and one awkward disgruntled trio of twenty-somethings hoping to fly under the radar. “Why’d you have to break ours?”</p><p>“I didn’t know it was going to stop working,” Daichi mutters. In retrospect, there had been a few warning signs, but he’d pushed it beyond its limit despite them. “You know I can’t! I don’t even know if the offer was genuine.” He’s more likely to be the butt of some kind of joke. “I mean, who just <em>does</em> that?”</p><p>“Maybe he has a crush on you,” Asahi suggests, tying his hair back before sliding into the water. Daichi shoots him a withering glare, and Asahi winces and holds both hands up in mock surrender.</p><p>“We’ve met twice.” Maybe three times, if he counts the introduction he can’t really remember. They’re also grown men. ‘Crush’ sounds… well, embarrassing and juvenile. People like Kuroo probably don’t have crushes on people like Daichi anyway. </p><p>“Maybe he just trusts you,” Suga says, appraising him critically. “You don’t exactly look like a hardened criminal, Daichi.” He smacks his fist into his palm “Oh! You should’ve told him something like, ‘the only things I steal are <em>hearts</em>’.”</p><p>Asahi looks bemused. “Why does your Daichi impression sound like Oikawa?”</p><p>“You guys are hopeless,” Daichi sighs, and Suga sends a gigantic splash of water in his direction, dousing Daichi from head to toe. It’s not even refreshing, just lukewarm and kind of gross. </p><p>In spite of his friends’ encouragement, Daichi refuses to cave. He has principles. Instead, he haunts various cafes for as long as he can without having to spend money he doesn’t have. Eventually, he uses up all his goodwill in the ones around his neighbourhood and is forced to trudge home. Conditions in his apartment haven’t magically improved, and he despairs for a grand total of fifteen minutes before there’s a knock on his door. </p><p>Kuroo is the last person he expects to see standing on the other side. His brain short-circuits; he’s dressed in a classy black suit with a red tie around his neck, and Daichi only briefly registers that his infamous bed head is only marginally tamer than usual before Kuroo chuckles. </p><p>“46B,” he says, by way of greeting. “I guessed you’d be here instead of taking me up on my generous offer.” </p><p>“Trespassing is illegal,” Daichi says blandly.</p><p>“I’m not keen on pressing charges.” But Kuroo drops the subject and hefts a bag instead, shaking it slightly in front of Daichi’s face. “Ah, whatever. I brought you some popsicles.”</p><p>“Oh.” He blinks. That’s oddly nice and completely unnecessary. Daichi takes a step back. “Uh, come—don’t come in.” He’d forgotten that his apartment is an oven.<br/>
 <br/>
Kuroo pokes his head inside and immediately retracts it, whistling under his breath. “You weren’t kidding; that’s <em>hot</em>.” He shifts the bag of popsicles to his other hand and hooks a thumb over his shoulder towards his own apartment. “Wanna come back to my place?” </p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Daichi says immediately. </p><p>The familiar, blessed hum of the air conditioner in Kuroo’s home fills Daichi with relief. Dumping the bag on the counter, Kuroo disappears into his room to change out of his work clothes, leaving Daichi to put the ice cream away before it can melt. By the time Kuroo returns, he’s devoured one popsicle and is reaching for a second one. </p><p>He freezes at the sight of Kuroo, hand outstretched and grasping at air. Kuroo is wearing a pair of shorts and a red tank top, which draws attention to his toned arms. Daichi can’t help but stare. He fully blames his friends for it—words like <em>crush</em> suddenly make him conscious of the fact that Kuroo is handsome in an effortlessly confident way that Daichi’s always admired but can’t emulate. </p><p>He knows he’s not ugly himself; he keeps in shape and his ex-girlfriend told him he has ‘kind eyes’, which ought to count for something. But even with the ridiculous bedhead, Kuroo is on a different level. Daichi thinks, suddenly, that the universe can be unfairly biased in favour of some people. </p><p>“You don’t mind if I put on some volleyball, do you?” Kuroo asks, throwing himself down on the couch. He doesn’t seem to notice Daichi’s staring, or if he does, he’s not bothered by it.</p><p>Daichi pulls his thoughts away from what Kuroo’s arms around him would feel like (a thought exercise that has him flushing pink and coughing). “Go ahead.” He joins Kuroo on the couch, belatedly registering his request as the EJP Raijin vs. Tachibana Red Falcons game fills the screen. “You like volleyball too?” he asks, surprised.</p><p>Kuroo answers with a genuine smile, his eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Yeah,” he says, shifting closer to Daichi until their knees are pressed together. “You?”</p><p>“I used to play in high school.” Karasuno seems like a lifetime ago, even though Daichi logically knows it wasn’t. He misses the game. Suga’s been trying to set up a neighbourhood association team for ages, but they’re still short a couple of people. Would be nice to find a middle blocker to join them.</p><p>“Me too!” Kuroo sounds pleased by the revelation. No ulterior motives, just sincerely happy to hear that Daichi enjoys the sport. It’s kind of endearing; it makes him look younger, more boyish, less like someone Daichi struggles to understand and more like a friend on his level. “Let me guess, you were captain of your team.”</p><p>“Y—yeah.” Got it in one. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as Kuroo’s grin turns triumphant. “Is it that obvious?” Or does Kuroo have a sixth sense for these things?</p><p>“Oh yeah.” Leaning back, Kuroo laces his fingers behind his head. “You look like the responsible type.” </p><p><em>Responsible</em>… he doesn’t know about that. Maybe once he was moderately responsible for a seventeen year old, but these days, he just doesn’t know. Adulthood is a different beast altogether. “You were captain too, weren’t you?” Daichi asks, letting his hand fall to his side. </p><p>His eyebrows shoot up. “I’m surprised you can tell.”</p><p>”It’s not that hard to figure out, if you really think about it.” He doesn’t know how to explain it, but his gut feeling tells him that Kuroo would’ve probably been an excellent captain. Kuroo’s expression doesn’t give anything away, although he gestures for Daichi to continue. “You’re nosy,” he says finally, after giving it some thought. </p><p>Kuroo blinks. “How should I take that?”</p><p>“As a compliment?” Okay, <em>wow</em>. It didn’t sound like one, but Daichi means it in the best way. “You seem like you meddle a lot, but it comes from a good place… I think. You obviously care about people, even ones you don’t know that well. And you’re attentive. I dunno, I can see you being a captain who takes care of his team and helps their talents bloom.”</p><p>“When you say it like <em>that</em>, captain, I feel shy.” The flippant remark loses its edge as Kuroo sends him a sidelong glance, oddly hesitant, weighed down with something Daichi can’t put a name to. Gratitude, maybe. The tips of his ears are red but, Daichi reasons, that could be from anything, not necessarily his words. After a pause, Kuroo clears his throat and looks away. “If I’m ever meddling too much, you can tell me to fuck off.” </p><p>“I’m in your apartment. I can’t really tell you to get lost, can I?” He nudges Kuroo’s shoulder with his own. They’re close enough that he can feel heat radiating from Kuroo, but he doesn’t mind it. “I wouldn’t, anyway. You’re not a bad guy.” </p><p>Kuroo clutches his chest. “Captain Sawamura…” he says thickly. “I’m touched.” </p><p>He tries not to scoff at the display. “Daichi,” he corrects. “You can call me Daichi. Everyone does.” </p><p>“Captain Daichi, then,” Kuroo says, his eyes twinkling. </p><p>“Drop the captain.”</p><p>“No way; it’s sexy and authoritative.” </p><p>“Kuroo…” </p><p>“Daichi,” he says, more softly than Daichi was anticipating, more softly than he thought he was capable of. Something about his name in Kuroo’s mouth hits more than Daichi expected it to, and a flush crawls up his neck as he tears his eyes away and focuses intently at the perfect quick on screen. </p><p>A moment later, Kuroo’s gaze shifts back to the screen too as he comments on a sloppy block, and they fall easily into a casual exchange while commenting on the rest of the game. </p><p>He thinks about it later, though, when the heat makes it impossible to sleep, and wonders what this jittery sensation in his stomach is supposed to mean. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Maybe <em>you’re</em> the one with the crush,” Suga says teasingly, when Daichi calls him for advice. </p><p>He promptly hangs up without a word. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The scorching weather persists, much to Daichi’s chagrin. The two weeks estimate the building manager gives for repairs comes and goes, with the consensus being that his air conditioner is beyond repair and that a new one needs to be ordered—ETA unknown. </p><p>He’s pretty sure he’s being punished for some past-life crimes. Kuroo’s still willing to let him hide out at his apartment, but Daichi’d really like to stop imposing sometime soon. He likes Kuroo well enough (too much, in Suga’s eyes); he just feels bad for taking up space. Not that Kuroo seems to mind, even when Daichi apologetically updates him on the situation. He’s started to stock Daichi’s favorite brand of beer in his fridge, and tapes the V.League matches for them to watch together. </p><p>Admittedly, it’s nice to kick back and unwind with someone—swap stories about old games, their childhood, vent about work. Kuroo’s a good listener, knowing when to stay silent and when to chime in with a quip that has Daichi snorting with laughter. There’s an unpretentiousness to Kuroo if you look beyond the shit-eating grins and the self-assured manner he carries himself in. Daichi’s drawn to it despite himself. </p><p>Kuroo’s place sometimes feels more comfortable than his own. In the suffocating heat of his apartment, Daichi thinks of the key under the potted plant and considers putting aside his own pride to crawl back to a place that’s starting to feel a little like home. </p><p>Maybe Daichi’s not as great at setting boundaries as he’d like to believe. How can he possibly be, when simply running into Kuroo in the elevator in the evening fills him with something akin to relief and anticipation, a quiet need for Kuroo to invite him into his life again and again and again spreading through his body? </p><p>“You’re heading home late.” Kuroo is the first to break the silence in the elevator, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Daichi pulls his thoughts away from idle, half-formed desires and squints until Kuroo’s features come into view.</p><p>“I didn’t want to come home after work, so I went out to drink with some coworkers.” Maybe the alcohol is the root of all this overwhelming sentimentality. He rubs his face, willing himself to sober up. He didn’t even have that much to drink, honestly, but he really can’t hold his liquor well. </p><p>“I told you to chill in my apartment when I’m not home, man.”</p><p>“I’m not going to break into your apartment.”</p><p>“It’s not breaking and entering if I’m inviting you to,” Kuroo says, exasperated, but Daichi only chuckles and shakes his head. “Fine, but one day you’ll crack, and I’m going to have the last laugh.”</p><p>“Oh, something tells me you <em>always</em> get the last laugh regardless.” He says it without any heat and steps out of the elevator first when they reach their stop. There’s a heavy, expectant silence hanging between them as Daichi looks at his front door, then back at Kuroo, trying and failing to be subtle about what he wants.</p><p>Without missing a single beat, Kuroo unlocks his door and throws a glance over his shoulder. “Coming?” he asks, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like he knows before even saying anything that Daichi will say yes.</p><p>He unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Yeah.” </p><p>VC Kanagawa is playing the Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets; Daichi puts on the game while Kuroo changes. It’s pretty late—the sky outside is slowly turning a deep shade of purple. He’ll usually be returning to his own apartment around this time, but something in his mind just yells at him to stay. Not being able to hang out with Kuroo just feels weird now, and he knows he’ll be restless for the rest of the night if he leaves now. </p><p>Kuroo comes back into the room and checks the score on the television before wandering into the kitchen. “Have you eaten already?”</p><p>“Yeah. I ate at the bar.”</p><p>“Okay.” Daichi cranes his neck to see Kuroo making some instant ramen and sighs. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kuroo eat anything besides instant ramen and convenience store food. He’ll have to cook for him sometime. He’s not a skilled or fancy chef, but Daichi can make some basic things pretty well. Enough that he hasn’t starved yet, at least. </p><p>“Is that all you’re going to have?” he asks, making a failed attempt to keep the disapproval from his voice. </p><p>Kuroo pauses and looks up. “Dai-chan, you don’t want me to cook anything more than this, trust me.”</p><p>Dai-chan? He splutters. “Wha—I don’t remember giving you permission to call me that.” </p><p>“Isn’t it cute?”</p><p>“It’s not!” He wants to shoot back with an equally embarrassing nickname, but it occurs to Daichi that he’s never asked Kuroo his first name. Or if he has, he doesn’t remember. It’s easier just to think of him as Kuroo, but that’s not enough for him now. “I don’t even know your name,” he says, eyebrows knitting together. </p><p>“Tetsurou,” Kuroo says, bringing his chopsticks to his mouth. He looks surprised too, as if this has never occurred to him before. “You can go ahead and call me Tetsu-kun if you’re feeling left out.”</p><p>As if he could manage without turning an ugly shade of red. “I won’t,” Daichi says hotly, turning away from Kuroo’s smug, self-satisfied gaze. </p><p>“Offer’s on the table, Dai-chan,” he says in a sing-song voice, and Daichi lobs a pillow at him in retaliation, effectively shutting him up. </p><p>The end of the game arrives before long; the sun has completely set by the time Daichi reluctantly drags himself off the couch and prepares to head home. He’s dreading the night—it’s slightly cooler than during the day, sure, but still too sticky and warm for him to be able to get some decent sleep.</p><p>As if he can read his mind (and at this point Daichi is half-convinced he can), Kuroo twists in his seat and asks, “How do you last the night? Just curious.”</p><p>“Unhappily,” Daichi responds dryly. He doesn’t really want to go into detail about how he has to sleep in the nude, and he’s pretty sure Kuroo doesn’t want that mental image floating around in his brain either. </p><p>Kuroo sinks into deep thought before climbing to his feet and making for his closet. “You can stay over,” he says, not looking at Daichi. “I’ll put a futon out.” </p><p>“What? You don’t have to—“</p><p>“It’s fine,” Kuroo says dismissively, waving a hand in the air. “I insist. For the sake of your sleep schedule and all.”</p><p>“My sleep schedule isn’t <em>that</em> bad.”</p><p>Kuroo turns and stalks over to where Daichi stands rooted in place; he sucks in a breath as Kuroo’s face looms too close. His fingers probe at the dark circles underneath Daichi’s eyes. Kuroo’s touch is gentle, careful, almost reverent, and his heart speeds up at their proximity—it’s so loud in his ears that he’s sure Kuroo can hear it too. </p><p>Even if he can, he doesn’t comment, just retracts his hand with an unreadable expression and steps back. “You look haggard, Daichi.” </p><p>“Ah, well.” He scratches his cheek, unsure of what to say. So much for boundaries. “Just for tonight…?” </p><p>Kuroo grins and smacks him on the back. “Yeah, yeah. Get some proper shut-eye.”</p><p>Before long, he’s tucked into Kuroo’s spare futon in the living room, letting the hum of the air conditioner lull him to sleep. He expects it to be more of a struggle, considering he’s in someone else’s house, but it’s Kuroo’s place, and maybe that thought relaxes him enough that he passes out after a few minutes.</p><p>That night, he dreams of black hair, of curving smiles and strong arms, a broad chest hovering above him—and wakes, drenched in sweat despite the chill in the air, realizing with dawning horror that he almost definitely had a sexy dream starring Kuroo, which left him with a very serious physical problem. </p><p>Daichi can hear Kuroo moving around in his bedroom and throws off the covers, scrambling to rush out the door before Kuroo can enter the living room and fully witness his embarrassment. “I’m—I’m going to head home,” he says frantically, his clammy palms fumbling with the handle. “Thanks for letting me crash here!” </p><p>“Whoa, hey, Daichi?” Kuroo sticks his head out of his bedroom right as Daichi manages to get the door open. “What’s the rush? You don’t have to do the walk of shame.” </p><p>But the confusion in his voice just makes Daichi feel even worse, and he slams the door shut behind him without a response. </p><p>In the safety of his apartment, Daichi wades through the dense heat and locks himself in his bedroom. Letting out a long breath, he guiltily takes himself in his hand and tries—fails—not to think of Kuroo. His veins buzz as snatches of his dream come back to him, as his mind drifts to imagining what he looks like when he’s just woken up, what he might be doing on the other side of the wall, what Daichi wants, <em>desperately</em>, to do with him—</p><p>Suga’s right; maybe he is the one with a crush.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He passes the next few days in a numb haze. </p><p>There should be pamphlets for this, Daichi thinks to himself angrily, making a half-hearted attempt to clean his desk in the teacher’s lounge. <em>So You Jerked Off to the Neighbour You’re Relying On to Survive the Summer - Now What?</em> Yes, it’s a specific issue, but Daichi could use some guidance. </p><p>It’s hard to make eye contact with Kuroo, though he tries to pretend nothing is wrong and does a crappy job of it. Kuroo isn’t stupid; he knows something’s up, but he’s tactful enough to not draw attention to it and continues on like normal. </p><p>Whatever awkwardness stems from his newfound awakening is entirely on Daichi, and it’s up to him to learn how to deal with it. He can manage. He survived an awkward crush on Michimiya in high school, and a worse one on Suga in university. If he can’t fumble through whatever he feels for Kuroo Tetsurou, then there’s no hope for him at all.</p><p>(“Consider: just asking him out if you like him that much,” Suga says, unimpressed.</p><p>“I asked for a pamphlet, Suga, not unsolicited advice.”</p><p>Suga scrawls<em> JUST KISS THE MAN</em> on a piece of paper, folds it into thirds, and slaps it down on Daichi’s desk. Daichi is not amused.)</p><p>He’s still learning to exist with this new knowledge when he drags himself to Kuroo’s apartment on a particularly muggy day. Objectively, he recognizes that Suga is right yet again and that the easiest way to fix his problem is to tell Kuroo how he feels. But that puts him at risk of ruining the delicate equilibrium they co-exist in. The thought of being rejected is less daunting than losing Kuroo completely. </p><p>Daichi drags a hand down his face as he comes to a stop in front of Kuroo’s door. Maybe he’s overthinking this. Who says he has to do anything at all? He knocks and waits for Kuroo to answer, but minutes pass without him opening the door. Daichi glances down at the stack of papers in his hands, then at the potted plant Kuroo keeps his spare key under. </p><p><em>You don’t have to do this</em>, he tells himself. He can turn back and finish his reports in his own place. But it’s hard to focus when he feels like his face is melting off. And while he doesn’t want to break the one rule he’s set for himself, at this point boundaries don’t matter. He’s already slept over at Kuroo’s house, among other things. </p><p>The spare key is under the plant as promised. Daichi opens the door with a soft <em>click!</em> and returns the key to its place before stepping foot inside—only to be greeted by the sight of Kuroo sitting at his dining table with his laptop open in front of him. He glances up at the sound, his irritated expression quickly morphing into one of surprise and triumph when he sees Daichi standing there like an idiot.</p><p>“Fuck,” Daichi says. </p><p>“Took you long enough!” Kuroo crows, reclining in his chair. </p><p>“Just—don’t say it. Please.” He’ll assume Kuroo was too busy to hear him knock and wasn’t deliberately trying to test him. He lifts the stack of reports and heads over to the table dropping into the seat across from Kuroo. “I have a ton of work to get done.”</p><p>Kuroo holds back a snicker as he turns his attention back to his screen. Daichi sneaks a peek at it—looks like a spreadsheet of some kind. “Alright, I’m not gonna say I told you so, but I am going to—“ He stops and looks up. “This means we’re friends, right?” Daichi thinks he can hear a hint of vulnerability underneath the forcefully cheery tone, some uncertainty that causes his voice to waver. “I can take it as proof you’re comfortable around me?” </p><p>“What are you talking about?” he frowns at the uncharacteristic timidity. “We’ve been friends for a long time.” He’s comfortable around Kuroo—or, he’s not uncomfortable in a bad way. Kuroo sets him on edge, but it’s a weightless feeling of anticipation rather than anything truly unnerving. </p><p>Kuroo looks taken aback, but his mouth lifts into a smile bright enough to momentarily blind Daichi. “I guess we have,” he says, slightly incredulous. “And to think, all this started when you offered me your body—“</p><p>“<em>Please</em> shut up.”</p><p>They fall silent and focus on their respective tasks after that. The only sounds in the apartment come from the steady clack of Kuroo’s keys and the hum of the ever-present air conditioner and, occasionally, tapping of Daichi’s pen against the table. </p><p>When he looks up, he finds Kuroo staring at him with a distant, glazed over look in his eyes. Daichi’s about to ask if the tapping is annoying when he feels something slowly slide up his leg and stiffens—Kuroo’s foot, of course, because he’s bored and weird enough to start playing footsie with Daichi underneath his own dining table. Daichi looks at him as if to say<em> really? You’re doing this?</em></p><p>It sends something skittering down his spine that grows heated the longer he thinks about Kuroo’s skin on his. Kuroo stops and looks at him quizzically, and after a moment’s hesitation, Daichi extends his legs under the table, his foot nudging against Kuroo’s calf.</p><p>The corners of Kuroo’s mouth twitch as he turns his attention back to his work, and his foot climbs higher, higher, <em>higher</em>, until Daichi chokes out an unsteady laugh and shifts in his seat. </p><p>He doesn’t stop him, though. Daichi can hardly stop himself from hurtling headfirst into the unknown territory of being completely, irrevocably <em>in something</em> with Kuroo. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Truth is, the heat wave has long since passed. </p><p>The weather is still unseasonably warm, but instead of crippling heat, it’s just mildly uncomfortable. Nothing that requires him to spend so much time at Kuroo’s place, but Daichi keeps finding himself there anyway. He’s sure Kuroo knows too, but he doesn’t complain when Daichi finds new excuses to hang around. </p><p>But peaceful days are coming to an end; the building manager informs him one morning that the new air conditioner will be delivered and installed any day now. He doesn’t tell Kuroo, but he dreads it, just a little bit. </p><p>Daichi doesn’t want to give <em>this</em> up—sharing meals, watching volleyball together, playing Mario Kart only to get overly competitive over who places first, trading stories and jokes and whatever else just to hear Kuroo laugh. He’s never thought of his life as dull before, exactly, but he can’t deny it’s much brighter, much more vibrant with Kuroo in it. </p><p>It’s not like they’ll stop being friends once everything returns to normal, but Daichi’s afraid of a dozen vaguely defined, untenable outcomes he can’t put a name to. All he knows is that things will be <em>different</em>—and it’s strange how quickly and easily he’s fallen into this cobbled together routine with Kuroo that the thought of change scares him. </p><p>They don’t really talk about expiry dates. None of this was supposed to be a permanent fix in the first place. They’re two different people with two separate lives, and there was always going to come a time when Daichi would return to his apartment and they’d go back to being just neighbours who exchanged small talk while picking up their mail. </p><p>There are times when they’ll ignore the implications of the ticking clock and lie sprawled over Kuroo’s expensive couch, legs intertwined, and Daichi will think about saying something to make this more permanent. But his words always get stuck in the back of his throat as he traces circles on Kuroo’s arm while he rests his head on Daichi’s shoulder with the excuse that he’s tired. Daichi will let him, and feel his breath against his neck and think, <em>how do I keep you—?</em></p><p>Sometimes he almost feels like Kuroo wonders the same thing too. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The building manager finally comes in to install the new air conditioner on a Sunday morning. Daichi tries to stay out of his way as best he can, and the whole thing is done before long. He thanks the man and sees him off before gingerly giving the air conditioner a whirl. It gently comes to life and shows no sign of breaking down on him anytime soon, so… small victories? He doesn't feel particularily satisfied.</p><p>Kuroo watches the whole thing from the doorway to his apartment, dressed casually with his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. It occurs to Daichi that Kuroo’s never actually spent any amount of time in his place, but as he realizes when he surveys the space with his hands on his hips, it’s not exactly clean enough for him to feel comfortable giving a tour. </p><p>“So I guess this is it, huh?” Kuroo says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your place is finally fit for habitation again.” The glint in his eyes is gently teasing, but carries a hint of something else as well. If Daichi didn’t know better, he’d say that Kuroo feels lonely at the prospect of saying goodbye.</p><p>“Yeah, I suppose. Took long enough.” Why does this feel so heavy? He shakes his head, as if the simple action could clear his mind of the sense of foreboding that permeates through his thoughts. You can’t really say goodbye to someone who lives next door and shares a wall with you, he reasons, but despite his private reassurances, he can’t help but worry that Kuroo’s suddenly somewhere just out of his reach. </p><p>“Well, good luck.” Uncrossing his arms, Kuroo pushes off the doorframe and gives him a slightly shaky smile. “Don’t be a stranger from now on.”</p><p>This is the moment where Daichi is supposed to say something sweeping and suave—a textbook romantic comedy setup, in Suga’s words, but Daichi… has never been suave in his life. He’s not really great at being <em>sweeping</em> or <em>romantic</em> either. What tumbles out of his mouth sounds more plaintive than that. “You’re not going to miss me?”</p><p>Kuroo stares for a moment before shrugging. “Of course I’m going to miss you,” he says lightly, but there’s sincerity in his voice as well, the sound of which lifts Daichi’s spirits. “Who else is going to nag me about my dietary habits?” </p><p>“Your reply was kind of cavalier.” Maybe he’s pushing now, but Daichi feels the inexplicable need to do it or risk being stuck in this weird limbo of unsaid feelings and choking desires. </p><p>Perplexed, Kuroo lets out a bark of laughter. “Because you’re just going to be next door, not shipping off to <em>war</em>.” </p><p>“Just pretend I am, for a second,” Daichi says, ignoring Kuroo’s protests. “What would you say?”</p><p>“Okay… well.” Kuroo strokes his chin thoughtfully, his eyes closed as he ponders the question. Daichi didn’t expect him to take it that seriously and wants to laugh it off as a joke, but Kuroo’s eyes snap open before he can. “Okay. These past weeks we’ve spent together have been… great… and it sucks to see them come to an end. Getting to spend time with you has been…” he trails off and presses his lips together. “I don’t know what else to say? You’re like the earth and—”</p><p><em>What</em>. “Like dirt?”</p><p>“No. Just. <em>You know</em>.” He waves a hand in the air half-heartedly as he struggles for words. Daichi has never seen Kuroo at such a loss before. “You’re like, grounded and solid. Steady. Like the earth. I dunno.” He stops, frustrated, and tries again. “I like spending time with you. I like that you’re always here to just—<em>accept</em> me when I come home. I like that you snore with your mouth open and inhale food faster than I can chew. I like that you yell at the television like an old man. I like your smile. I like <em>you</em>.” Belatedly, Kuroo seems to remember the context and adds, “Please don’t die?” </p><p>Daichi's mouth is dry. “You’d make a great wartime lover,” he says finally, ducking his head. It’s easier to stare at his feet than at Kuroo’s face while he tries to process. Less embarrassing, too. Heat spreads to his face, down his neck, unfurling throughout his entire body as he wonders—is that a confession? Can he take it as one? Does Kuroo really mean...</p><p>“I’d make a great lover, period.” Kuroo somehow manages to sound affronted, even though Daichi can clearly see that his ears are red. </p><p>He lifts his head and clears his throat. “I can’t tell if that’s an offer or a challenge.” Although a part of him knows that Kuroo always means what he says. He’s never lied to Daichi, never faked anything, never been anything but nice and friendly and honest. </p><p>Kuroo looks nervous all of a sudden, his usual confidence stripped bare. “How about both?” he says hopefully, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.</p><p>Daichi swallows and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I keep a spare key under the welcome mat,” he says finally, somewhat anticlimactically for the moment. “If you ever want to come over.”</p><p>“When you’re not around?” Kuroo seems baffled by his words, </p><p>“I—” Ah, <em>shit</em>. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was trying to be smooth. Look—I’m trying to say that you can just come over whenever you want, because I like you.” This is so embarrassing; he can’t exactly look Kuroo in the eye while saying it out loud. He feels like one of his students, pouring their heart out in a letter and handing it to someone with the power to crush it to pieces. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, if the frantic beating of his heart is any indication. </p><p>“Sometimes you’re frustrating; I feel all turned-around when I’m around you, but I don’t hate it. You make me feel comfortable too, like I’m at home. I don’t think I could go back to a time when you’re not around.” He pauses and attempts a smile. “Also, I have a kotatsu for those cold winter months, so just come over—when I’m there.” <em>Never leave</em>, he adds silently. </p><p>Kuroo’s expression is unreadable. Then, so suddenly he can barely prepare himself, it splits into a wide grin. “You might regret saying that.” He draws near, until they’re standing inches apart and Daichi can see the affection in Kuroo’s eyes—and, dazedly, he thinks it’s been there for a while. He was just too blind to recognize it. “I’m not as shy as you about these things, Daichi. I can be pretty damn shameless about what I want.” </p><p>“Good.” With a grin, he grabs Kuroo by the collar and pulls him down for a deep, giddy kiss. “I can be shameless too.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Daichiiiiii</em>.” It’s negative degrees in his room, but his alarm has been ringing incessantly for the past ten minutes and Daichi figures it’s his cue to wake up. Kuroo thinks differently, and the minute he climbs out of bed, his boyfriend is already whining. “Come back to bed.” He cracks one eye open and shivers exaggeratedly. “Your apartment is freezing.”</p><p>“I live in two extremes,” he intones, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He throws a glance over his shoulder; Kuroo is nearly buried under a mountain of pillows. Daichi doesn’t know if he’s been buying more of them behind his back or if they just spring up here overnight like fungi. </p><p>Kuroo frowns. “Yeah, well, I can’t feel my fingers.” </p><p>He leans over and takes Kuroo’s hands in both of his. Kuroo blinks owlishly at him as Daichi brings them to his mouth and gently blows on his fingers while trying to rub warmth back into them. The look in his eyes softens as he pulls Daichi closer. “My dick’s cold too,” Kuroo murmurs. </p><p>Daichi sighs. “Don’t push it,” he warns. </p><p>“I had to try.” Breaking free from his prison of pillows, Kuroo drapes himself over his boyfriend and traps him in place. “Let me warm myself up.” </p><p>He should say <em>no</em> and push Kuroo away, but Daichi finds in that moment that he really doesn’t want to. “Fine,” he says, and closes his eyes, content.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>started writing it. had a breakdown. bon appetit. </p><p>(thank you for making it this far if you decided to read it regardless!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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